


Epidemic!

by mandykaysfic



Series: The Irish Sex Fairy Says [5]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Irish Sex fairy says: 3. Lovemaking can burn up those calories you piled on during dinner.</p><p>This time it wasn't aliens that made them do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epidemic!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Irish Sex Fairy's advice – not professional weight loss advice. Take it for what it's worth. The calories quoted come from a variety of sources found by googling ‘calories burned during sex’ or similar, so you can imagine the type of websites that appear, meaning I wouldn’t trust them as accurate, but as a way to burn up calories it’s more fun than a lot of other alternatives.

“Sickbay to Captain Janeway.”

“Yes, Doctor?” Janeway refrained from sighing. She supposed it was fortunate the EMH’s page came almost at the end of the rather trying briefing. 

“Please activate your Emergency Medical Hologram channel.” 

The senior staff turned as one to face the screen. “What is it?”

“I wish to advise that the crew of Voyager is in the grip of an epidemic.” 

If the Doctor wanted to create a sensation, he had. A babble of comments broke out from practically everyone in the room. Tuvok naturally contented himself with simply raising his eyebrow.

Janeway rapped firmly on the desk. “Explain,” she ordered when the room became quiet.

“Fortunately, the epidemic is in its early days, but if left unchecked, there is the risk of developing health problems, the nature of which the Terran medical profession has not had to deal with to such a widespread extent for centuries.”

“So it is only affecting the human members of the crew?” Harry and Tom exchanged sardonic glances at the superiority practically dripping from ‘I feel no emotions’ Tuvok’s comment.

“No, all members of the crew are susceptible in varying degrees, but not everyone has started to develop symptoms.”

“Nobody has reported in sick,” said Chakotay. He frowned. The rosters were a constant source of worry, particularly in periods where the ship was at high alert, involved in some sort of altercation or undergoing repairs. Double shifts were all too common and it was difficult with the limited number of people available to make sure all sections were adequately staffed.

“There is nobody in Sickbay at this time,” confirmed the doctor.

“Then what is this epidemic?” demanded Janeway.

“Obesity.”

“Obesity?” Janeway sat up straighter and automatically clenched her buttocks. Her uniforms had been feeling a little tight around the hips, but she wasn't _fat_.

Tuvok was already sitting up straight, but he straightened a little more and his non-expression may have been interpreted as smug by anyone else in the room. The possessor of a typical Vulcan ectomorphic body type, he carried not an ounce of extra fat. 

Chakotay risked a quick look downwards. Naturally burly, he knew he had a tendency to put on weight and the duties of the first officer that kept him at his desk did not help matters. He pulled in his abdominal muscles and tried to remember the last time he'd run his boxing program, gone skiing, or even done anything more vigorous than walk the corridors between his quarters and the Bridge or the various departments on Voyager.

“Yes, obesity - the precursor to various cardiovascular problems, lymphatic disorders, endocrine diseases and other physical ailments, not to mention degenerative conditions and in addition, certain psychosocial issues.”

“But surely the food in the Mess hall is not high enough in calories as to cause the crew to gain weight to that extent?” At the captain's question all eyes turned to Neelix.

“Captain Janeway -,” began Neelix volubly.

“Mr Neelix, if I may,” interrupted the EMH. “During the past two weeks I have conducted an extensive analysis of the foods served in the Mess Hall, comparing the quantities and compositions of replicated foods, fresh delta quadrant foods obtained in trade or otherwise, and Voyager's own hydroponically grown vegetables.”

Harry leant over to Tom. “Perhaps it's the leola root,” he murmured. 

“Yeah, please let the doctor say it's fattening and must be removed from Voyager's menu immediately.” Tom snickered behind his hand, but wisely refrained from getting his hopes up.

“I have to report Mr Neelix does an outstanding job with what is available at his disposal, but diet alone is not responsible for the expanding measurements of more than half of the crew. In fact, leola root is one of the healthiest items on the menu. It contains many essential nutrients and acts as a 'fat-buster' when combined with animal proteins. It stays on the menu. No, the biggest contributing factor is lack of exercise, in particular cardiovascular work. The only department that raises its collective heart rate on a regular basis is Security.”

Tom dug Harry in the ribs as they caught sight of Tuvok's chin rising fractionally. Never let it be said Vulcans did not experience pride.

“The math is simple. Calories in must equal calories used in order to maintain a stable weight. Starfleet General Medical Order twenty-seven, subsection twelve authorizes me to deal with pending epidemics in any way I see fit. I therefore propose to institute a new exercise regime, allowing sufficient calories to be burned in off-duty hours, in a way that most of the crew will find enjoyable and actually want to participate in.

“You see, the problem is twofold: the number of crew and the places available for exercising. Firstly, the number of crew. We have a finite number, and unless we take on more people such as Mr Neelix and Kes, deaths will see the numbers dwindle. Already there are barely forty-five people per shift, numbers that I'm sure contribute to Commander Chakotay's stress levels when making up the rosters. Also, it will be almost two decades before the first of any children born on board will be ready to take their place among the crew, with the pregnancies themselves creating their own considerations regarding maternal and child care. From a purely numbers point of view it behooves all of the crew to keep as healthy as possible. Obesity is therefore unacceptable.” The Doctor held up his hand. The outbreak of loud mutterings, even Captain Janeway's, quieted. “You may ask questions when I have finished.”

He continued, “That brings me to my second point; the places available for formal exercise are limited. The gymnasium is small. For half of every shift it is utilized by the security teams. That obviously cannot change. I considered making exercise part of everybody's holodeck time, however, with only two hours per week allocated to each person, and the necessity not dictating what type of holodeck programs must be used for recreational purposes, this was not a feasible plan. Running up and down the corridors is impractical, not to say potentially dangerous and disruptive. The cargo holds are regularly in use and unsuitable to be converted to house exercise equipment.” The EMH had an answer to every suggestion that didn’t have a chance to be voiced.

“What is this ‘compulsory’ exercise program?” Janeway finally got a word in edgewise.

“Sexual intercourse.” 

Complete silence was a rare occurrence at senior staff meetings. The Doctor managed to get several words in before the outbreak of voices. He coughed loudly, refusing to continue until he had the floor once more. “All members of the crew will be required to participate in sexual congress for three periods per week, each session to last a minimum of forty-five minutes. Crew will be paired on a rotating roster of four weeks per partnership. I have undertaken the allocation of the first six months of pairings based on physiology, that is, combinations most likely to burn calories and psychosexual profile. Along with the names of your first six partners, instructions detailing ways to burn extra calories have been forwarded to all terminals. I suggest you study them before your first sessions.”

“But – I'm the captain. I can't—”

“Obesity is no respecter of rank. I, however, am. Remember, your psychological profile as been taken into account, and even with a crew of this size I have been able to accommodate you with senior staff and heads of departments.” The EMH puffed up with pride. “Everyone's needs have been taken into account.”

“How have you accommodated those with cultural or religious taboos regarding sexual intercourse?” As the ship's de facto counselor, Chakotay had quite a bit to do with several of the crew who had trouble coping with the absence of the familiar trappings of their various heritages. 

“There are only nine people thus affected. They have been rostered the equivalent amount of time in the gymnasium, and where appropriate, I have provided them with information to assist with making masturbation more efficient.” After a pause long enough for a living being to draw a breath, the Doctor reiterated his orders and then concluded, “You will comply. I shouldn't need to remind anybody of the consequences for failing to obey a General Medical Order of this nature.”

 

Later that evening, Harry burst into Tom’s quarters. He waved a PADD in Tom’s direction. “Did you read all of this? Who have you got? I haven’t got you, but I am so fucked. I’ve got Captain Janeway. What will I do?”

Tom had been expecting Harry for the past hour. He collected the drinks he’d pre-programmed into the replicator and made Harry sit down. “Here. Start with this.” He waited until Harry had downed half his drink. “So who have you got?”

Harry read the names off the PADD. “In order: Delaney, ah, it's Jenny, Golwat, Ballard, Brooks, Henley and Captain Janeway.”

“The Doctor knows you better than you realize. You’ve always preferred Jenny to Megan and you get on well with Ballard. And Brooks plays the piano, doesn’t she? You’ll be fine?”

“But Golwat? And Janeway? I’m so fucked.”

“I think that’s the whole idea,” sniggered Tom.

“You’re no help.”

“But the Doctor’s treatise on sex is very helpful. Look, you just need to memorize the things that burn up the most calories and go for those. Doggie style burns up more calories than the missionary position. Bouncing uses an extra seven calories, and sliding around nine calories.” Tom scrolled further down Harry’s PADD. “Add in some tickling, nibbling and sucking and you can still enjoy a dessert that's worth...seventy-nine calories. Hmm, maybe you need to convince at least one of them to give an industrial-sized dildo a go. That's worth five times as many calories as a regular one.”

Harry threw a dirty look in Tom's direction, but couldn't stop a wry smile breaking out. “Who is the one burning up the calories then?” He looked down and pinched a small handful of fat at his lower belly. “Do you think I'm fat?” He stood and peered around at his backside as best he could. He pulled at his hips. “How big do love handles have to be before they're classed as 'fat'? The Doc is crazy.”

“Maybe, but as far as I'm concerned, it's a good crazy. C'mon, Harry, we have to have sex at least three times a week. What's there not to like?”

“When you put it like that.... But I've got Janeway.” Harry flung himself back onto the sofa and stared unseeing at the ceiling. “I've got to fuck Janeway. God, that even sounds...”

“You're going to have sexual congress with your captain under Starfleet regulations,” intoned Tom.

Harry groaned. “That doesn't make it sound much better. Take my mind off it. Tell me who you've got.”

“Tuvok, Ayala, Janeway, Chakotay, Torres and Tabor.”

“You've got the captain too?”

“We are the senior staff. The Doc said that's who she'd be with. I'm guessing her list will be along the lines of Chakotay, Tuvok, me, probably Torres, possibly Rollins or one of the other heads of department, then you.”

“Janeway and Torres?” asked Harry, his mind distracted for a moment.

“Sure. Why not?”

“No reason, I guess. I'd just never thought about it before. Anyway, your list? You're happy with it?” 

“Hey, Dalby isn't on it! It's a good list.”

“So, who are you going to use the industrial-sized dildo on?” Harry laughed and then looked consideringly at Tom. “Chakotay carries the most extra weight of your group.” He paused and without waiting for Tom to answer, he continued, “Hey, I've just realized something. Tuvok and Ayala are both Security – no extra fat there. Torres and Tabor are nice and slim. Even the captain and the commander aren't that fat. But I've got Golwat; she's solid. Lindsey could lose a few pounds to get her back down to Starfleet regs. Henley's got hips. And thighs. Brooks is cute – and cuddly. And as for Jenny, or Megan, it doesn't matter which twin;” Harry cupped the air in front of him, “those portions of their anatomy are contributing God knows how much to the Doctor's epidemic on their own.”

“The Doc obviously thinks you've got what it takes to help all these lovely ladies lose weight. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

* * *

In Sickbay the atmosphere wasn't so jocular. 

Billy Telfer was practically in tears. “But I might catch - .”

“I can assure you nobody on Voyager is suffering from any type of sexually transmitted disease.”

“But - .”

“Your first exercise partner had a full physical examination two days ago. She's fine.”

“Allergies! I might have an allergy to another person's bodily fluids. I could develop anaphylactic shock and die. Reactions to semen happen, you know.”

The EMH produced a creditable imitation of Tuvok with a neatly raised eyebrow. “In that case, Tal Celes would have more to worry about than you. Bajoran females do not produce semen.”

Telfer flushed and looked down. “Well, what about female fluids? People are allergic to them too,” he muttered. 

“Relax, Mr Telfer. I have personally screened all of your partners in anticipation of your reaction. They are all perfectly compatible with you. You are more likely to develop health problems from the consequences of obesity. You are currently fifteen percent above your ideal body weight. I suggest you make a start on your weight loss regime as soon as possible. Your other option to participating is a transfer to Security and be put on a low-calorie diet. Leola root will provide all of your nutritional requirements - without the calories of your preferred foods. I have already assisted Mr Neelix with the formulation of a suitable food plan, should anyone require it. Shall I contact him now?”

“I'll suppose I'll go and talk to Celes.”

“See that you do more than just talk to her.”

* * *

Tom contemplated the message from Tuvok one more time. He'd expected it yesterday. He'd actually expected a complete timetable for the whole four weeks, but there was only the request to present himself to Tuvok's quarters that evening. He checked the time and headed for the bathroom. He tried to work himself into a logical frame of mind, because thanks to the Doctor's invocation of Starfleet General Medical Order twenty-seven, subsection twelve, he was feeling a little unsettled. It wasn't a date; it wasn't a casual, anonymous encounter; it wasn't quite like anything he'd previously experienced. No doubt everyone would get used to the new routine. 

Tuvok answered the door dressed in a long robe. Shades of chalk, grey slate and inky blue in vertical stripes made him appear slimmer and taller than the black and gold of his uniform. He indicated the seat by the window. “I thought it best we set some parameters in advance.”

Tom nodded cautiously. “What did you have in mind?”

“Based on the Starfleet Body Mass Index guidelines for twenty-nine year old human males, you need to lose seven pounds. I, on the other hand, fall in the lower end of the acceptable range for Vulcan males of my age. According to the Doctor, a suitable weight loss rate is one pound per week, taking into consideration regular dietary choices and exercise habits. I have therefore taken the liberty of calculating the number of calories you need to burn over the coming four week period to achieve a four pound weight loss.”

“Err...”

“I have researched a number of activities and positions to determine the ones that will make the most efficient use of our time. If you have any dislikes, now would be a good time to mention them so I can make some substitutions. This would also be a good time to mention if you suffer from premature ejaculation, as the opportunity to burn up calories is markedly decreased with the commensurate reduction in time involved in the act.” Tuvok frowned as Tom tried to control the snort of laughter that escaped from behind the fist he'd shoved to his mouth.

When he felt he could speak coherently, Tom took a deep breath and exclaimed, “Tu-vok!” He paused, suddenly not sure what he wanted to say. He tilted his head and stared thoughtfully into the Vulcan's eyes. “No, I don't suffer from premature ejaculation, or...ah...erectile dysfunction or anything else that affects my...umm...performance time. Since I'm the one that has to lose weight, I'm assuming you'll be expecting me to take the positions that burn the most calories. I have no objection to that, but what about you?”

“I 'pitch' and 'catch' with equal competency. I also have no impediment that would impact on my efficiency.”

“Then I hope you factored the calorie-burning potential of foreplay into your calculations,” said Tom and promptly leaned forward to kiss Tuvok on the lips. He started with a flurry of brief, closed-mouthed pecks and segued into something slower, pressing into Tuvok’s warm, dry lips. He ran his tongue along the join and then clutched Tuvok’s shoulders a little harder when he felt a flicker of response. After a moment, he stopped and instead, kissed his way along the steady jaw until his lips reached Tuvok’s ear. “C’mon,” he breathed. “Deep, passionate kisses can double my metabolic rate.” He drew back a little, and struck with an inspiration, suddenly swiped his tongue along the elegant curve to the pointed tip. He smiled as Tuvok growled some sort of Vulcan imprecation, neatly flipped Tom over and began kissing him with every bit of energy and skill that Tom could have desired.

* * *

“This kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?” B’Elanna waved her fork over the plate of banana pancakes Chakotay had produced for dessert. 

“Maybe, but I thought it wouldn’t matter this once.” 

“Probably not. Remember when we had the pancakes stuffed with those purple berries? What were they called again?”

Chakotay frowned. “Can’t remember, but I know it took a week for the purple stains to fade.” He laughed as he pictured B’Elanna as she'd looked back then, with the purple juice running down her chin, dripping onto the shirt she’d worn, contrasting with the pale color and drawing attention to her breasts. His gaze flickered to her front and he watched her nipples harden. He did manage to look back up at her face as with great deliberation she slid another forkful of pancake between her lips and slowly drew it back out again, the clean tines shining faintly in the room's light. He stared at her mouth as she chewed, swallowed, licked her lips. Her fork clattered unheeded onto the table. Chairs were shoved unceremoniously out of the way and they were in each others arms.

“Beats fitness drills any day,” murmured B'Elanna, and bit Chakotay right where his neck joined his shoulder. “I think that was worth twenty-eight calories!”

“For you or for me?”

She shrugged and nipped him again. He laughed and retaliated with a pinch and a smack to her bottom, and then pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. He fumbled with the buttons at her throat.

“With your teeth,” she ordered. “I actually read the Doctor's instructions, even if you didn't.”

“We've got four weeks. No need to do everything to the maximum all the time.”

“Teeth!” she repeated firmly and pushed his hands away.

“Yes, ma'am. Teeth it is.” The last was muffled as Chakotay tackled the small buttons with vigour, strong white teeth and an agile tongue. He earned himself a sharp slap when he spat out a particularly recalcitrant one he'd resorted to biting off. He grinned and herded B'Elanna away from the table and over to the sofa, where he managed to strip off the remainder of her outfit in a short space of time. Hands, hers and his, removed his clothes and they once more closed the gap between themselves; wanting, needing skin on skin. Familiar hotspots were quickly relearned. Groans intermingled with moans and guttural directions formed a syncopated counterpoint to the soft music that continued playing in the background. He cupped one breast as he laved the other, did all the things he thought he remembered she liked and when her promises and threats turned to begging, he manoeuvred her over the arm of the sofa and entered her from behind. His last coherent thought was at least they were burning more calories like than in the missionary position.

* * *

Harry read through the EMH's physiological studies and recommendations one more time, in case there was anything he could add to his list. He'd spent several hours studying all the available data, and being the good ops officer that he was, he'd drawn some logical conclusions and worked out a plan of action. They were supposed to spend forty-five minutes in 'sexual congress', which was not just intercourse, but included foreplay and post-coital activities as necessary. (Thank goodness, he thought. Things might chafe if it was three quarters of an hour straight of actual fucking.) He didn't feel right getting straight down to it the moment she opened the door, so he'd factored in some time to talk first. Fifteen minutes of discussion would round things out to an hour for their initial encounter. He'd invited Jenny to his quarters as she shared with her sister and while he supposed voyeurism burned up some calories, he wasn't quite ready to be that helpful to Megan. He checked his list of preparations again: clean sheets and the bed actually made, clean bathroom, drinks handy if needed, hand lotion, lubricants, extra cushions, hand towels and the rest. He reviewed the program again as well. Talking – fifteen minutes, kissing – ten minutes, undressing – five minutes, foreplay including stroking, licking and more kissing – fifteen minutes, actual intercourse – ten minutes, post coital bliss – five minutes. Damn! He'd forgotten getting dressed afterwards. If he reallocated one minute from each of the above, that should take care of it. He breathed a sigh of relief, and added ten calories for talking about sex to his total. Even without any advanced positions or techniques, he should burn four hundred and forty-six calories in the hour.

His door chimed and he took one last hurried glance at his PADD before calling out ‘enter’. His eyes widened in astonishment. Lycra, legwarmers and running shoes filled his gaze. “Jenny…?”

“Harry! Here, I’ve brought some music with me. You might want to slip into something more comfortable first before we start.”

Harry looked down at his jeans. “Huh?”

“We have to warm up first. Don’t want any injuries now, do we?”

“But I thought -.”

“Yes, yes, I’m here for the Doctor’s sexercises. Stretching out is an important part of injury prevention in any sport, as you know, so I thought we could use the first part of my aerobics warm up, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure, ah, I guess. Um, I’ll just put on a pair of shorts, or something.”

“Fine. I’ll just clear a space here. Fifteen minutes should be adequate.”

“Right. You do that.” Harry scuttled into his bedroom and rummaged frantically for a pair of running shorts. He jumped when the music suddenly blared out. It had a fast, rhythmic beat and he found himself nodding his head in time as he changed.

“Just follow me, Harry,” Jenny called out when he joined her. “And one, and two, and three, and turn. Let’s bend, and stretch, and three, and four. Now left, and two, and three, and four!” and she stretched and twisted without stopping until the music came to a sudden stop and computer announced fifteen minutes had elapsed. “Okay, now we can go into your bedroom.” She slid the straps down of her leotard as she spoke, and wiggled her way out of her clothes as she made her way across the room.

‘She’s worse than Tuvok,’ thought Harry as he bent over, trying to catch his breath and relieve a stitch. He hobbled into the bedroom behind Jenny, almost barging into her when she stopped suddenly. He started to straighten up just as she turned to face him and found himself with a faceful of naked breasts. He stammered something as she exuberantly flung her arms around him and helped him up.

“Come on, Harry!”

He found himself efficiently stripped and arranged on his back in the center of the bed, with Jenny settling herself astride his chest. Her deft hands fondled him for a few moments and then he was engulfed by her warm wet mouth. He cried out when the pressures from her mouth and tongue disappeared. “C’mon, Harry!” she urged once more and got back to business. He got the message and got busy with his fingers until she hummed with pleasure. Too soon for Harry, she pulled up and disengaged with an exaggerated ‘pop’, but she wasted no time swinging her body around and lowering herself onto his cock. “C’mon, Harry,” she panted. “C’mon, Jenny,” he somewhat breathlessly mocked in return, and they grinned at each other until Harry’s face contorted and he came with a shout and she followed moments later.

Sixty minutes after she’d enter his quarters, she stood dressed and ready to leave. “See you back here in two days, Harry.”

“Sure, Jenny.” He waved her out and began to return his furniture to its accustomed places. Straightening up the last chair he caught sight of the PADD containing all of his meticulous calculations. He read the first few lines, shook his head and deleted the lot.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway made sure the privacy lock was firmly encoded before looking around the holodeck. It was a suite of rooms at a generic resort. She headed straight for the balcony and stood, taking in the blue sky, the white clouds and the calm turquoise sea, until a polite cough interrupted warned her that her partner for the month had joined her. 

He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading the taut muscles. For once he said nothing. He simply waited, moving his hands from her shoulders to her neck and back again, seeking out each tight spot and working it out.

“Why you? Why not Commander Chakotay first? Wouldn’t he have been the logical choice?”

“I believed it would be easier for you this way. Less personal, if you like. After a month, you’ll be used to it. Also, you aren’t exempt from Starfleet General Medical Order twenty-seven, subsection twelve. This way I can ensure you get off to a good start.” He almost patted her hips, but a little-used algorithm activated a subroutine regarding tact, and he refrained. 

“But you’re a doctor, not a weight-loss program.”

“I’m glad you noticed! Now, shall we get started? My programming has been suitably upgraded.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Mr Paris and Ms Torres were most helpful.” The EMH’s uniform fuzzed out of existence and he stood unconcernedly naked before the captain. “Feel free to give me directions. Any short speech, such as ‘just a little more’ or ‘oh, yes, right there’, will burn as many as twenty-five calories. Sex related noises such as short gasps – three calories per gasp, squeals – they’re worth four, ecstatic moans – eleven each, and violent begging for twenty-two calories, are well worth incorporating, as are trembling, shaking and shuddering. If you also find it within you to control yourself for a while as you approach orgasm, you will burn a massive seventy-nine calories as opposed to a mere five-and-a-half if you simply let go. Naturally, multiple orgasms will use up more calories. Research shows some women are capable of eight orgasms in a single hour. If you wish….” The EMH’s tact algorithm fired again. He squeezed the captain’s shoulders. “Come on back inside, Captain.”

 

 

Four weeks later:

The Doctor blessed Starfleet General Medical Order twenty-seven, subsection twelve and his foresight at including himself as the crew taking part. He already had enough information for half a dozen papers on his favorite topic.

* * *

Tom surveyed his body in the mirror. He turned this way and that. He definitely did not have to suck his stomach in quite so much. “What do you think, Tuvok?”

“You have lost three point seven pound. While you did not achieve your goal, the result is acceptable. I will however recommend to Mr Ayala that he is much stricter than I have been about not allowing you to swallow, or at least make you do something that will burn off the extra fourteen calories per time.”

* * *

Harry folded up his aerobics gear and stowed it away. He somehow couldn’t see Golwat wanting to work out to music before having sex. He wondered what type of kink was normal for a Bolian with a cartilaginous tongue, and promised himself five minutes with a Bolian anatomy text to see whether there was anything else he should know. His thighs and legs could cope with anything now, he thought.

* * *

Billy Telfer spent only ten minutes in Sickbay this time. The Doctor reassured him Betazoids were equally compatible with humans and that Mia Jurot had passed her physical with flying colors less than two hours ago.

* * *

B’Elanna replicated herself a large plate of banana pancakes. The head of Security would have plenty of stamina and she needed to be ready.

* * *

In separate cabins Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay contemplated the coming month. He couldn’t stop smiling. He would finally get what he wanted, one way or another. She smiled too; she now had the perfect excuse that made it all right for the captain to have sex – Starfleet made them do it, and best of all, her uniform was a whole size smaller.

END


End file.
